Help me, he said
Slowly we drove through white corridors and towards the light
Angels in blue coats and red epilates surrounded him, pushing me away
They turned and twisted him, supposedly helping him
Help me! he shouted
Jesus in a white coat approached him
He used his stethoscope to listen to his soul
The angels began to sing, his eyes met mine, and the struggle was over
If only I had known
Help me would be his last words, those words haunt me.